Always
by SarcasticPieWithdrawl
Summary: Nine years has past since Ferelden last saw their Hero. She swore she would never return to her old home as there was to much heartbrake to deal with that was awaiting her, but with the Seekers hunting her and the threat of the "Old God" returning she had no where else to go. Who has she hidden from the world? What is their purpose? Will her heart ever mend? (A mix of DA2)
1. Resemblance

Alistair walked heavily down the corridors, after being harassed by Teagan and Eamon.

"_You're thirty years old, Alistair!" Teagan exclaimed._

"_It's time that you found a wife for Maker's sake!" Eamon growled._

Alistair's leather boots thudded on the hard ground as he crossed to the gates opening to the market square of Denerim. Women, children and workers greeted him happily as he strolled through. This was the very few places he could calm down – to escape everything. It reminded him of the days where he was out to save Ferelden with Wren Tabris, the elf that changed him for better or worse.  
Leaning up against a cool, stone wall he watched his people do their daily shopping; a small girl who was looking at a bread stall caught his eye. She wore a powder blue dress with laced up boots; her waist length hair danced between dark chestnut in the shadows and golden in the light. Her ringlets were tucked behind her pointed ear. This young elf reminded Alistair of Wren; a strange beauty that didn't belong in an Alienage...

"_Thief!_" the stall owner screeched at the girl.

"No, no – I'm not! I'm not!" she cried. Alistair ran over to the commotion before any guards could.

"What's going on here?" he asked. The stall owner froze as she stared up at her king in horror.

"Y-your Majesty," she stuttered; the elf girl looked up at him curiously. She showed Alistair a small, silk bag that held many sovereigns.

"She thought I stole this," the girl explained in an annoyed voice, "But it's mine and I got it from my mother."  
The old woman scoffed and rolled her eyes at the story. Alistair frowned at the woman.

"You don't believe her?" he questioned. She shuffled her feet and nodded.

"The elves here don't have money like that, so I-"

"Accused a child of pick pocketing, when she's clearly not from Ferelden," he finished her sentence indicating at the young elf's fine clothes. The stall owner went bright red.

"Now, would you gladly give this young elf what she intended to buy and apologize?"  
After a few minutes of mumbling and handing over some loaves of bread, the elf girl turned to Alistair.

"Thank you, your – er – Majesty," she smiled; she had brilliant white teeth. Her eyes were what hit him the most. They were so familiar…

"Hope!"  
The girl spun around and ran to a woman. Alistair's heart stopped as he saw her.


	2. A Chilly Welcome

**Hey guys, incredibly sorry for the confusion if any; **_**Wanted: Dead or Alive **_**was posted and it was a screw up version of **_**Always**_**.**

**Please ignore my idiocy and enjoy the story.**

**Thanks, SarcasticPieWithDrawl xx**

She stood there, as bold as brass. The little girl named Hope ran to her arms and she spun her through the air; her reddish-brown hair mingling in with her daughter's ever changing coloured locks.

"You're supposed to be with at the Alienage," the young elf lightly scolded Hope.

"Valora needed some bread," the young girl explained, her brow slightly pulling together, "Then _that _lady-" she nodded to the stall owner "- started to yell at me!"

"What-"

"Don't worry, though," Hope flashed a brilliant smile, "He helped me!"  
The young girl pointed towards Alistair who was frozen to the spot. He slowly raised his hand in acknowledgment.

"Hey Wren," he said shakily, "Fancy meeting you here."  
Wren Tabris put her daughter down, continually staring at the man who broke her heart. Hope watched her mother glare the helpful noble down.

"Go back to Soris, sweetheart." Wren murmured. The young elf nodded and waved the two goodbye. Alistair stared at her in amazement; the last time he had seen her or even _heard _from her was when he came to Amaranthine and found her with Oghren, the mage named Anders and a warrior woman named Mhairi.  
Her green eyes glared at him with…was it hate? Her reddish-brown hair now came to her waist and her bangs had grown out. Wren's mane was the only thing that had changed, as her Dalish blood slowed her physical aging.

"When did you get back?" Alistair asked her.

"Last night," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest, "Zevran sent me a letter that there was still trouble with Orlais. A bonus for me as I need somewhere to hide…"  
He nodded understanding that she meant the Seekers were on her trail. An obvious question was gnawing at his insides.

"So… a child?" he mumbled, awkwardly; Wren stiffened.

"Yes – it seemed it was possible." She answered coldly. Alistair looked down in shame remembering his words the night he left her, though he did not dwell on it.

"I have to go and help Soris and his wife with lunch," she excused herself. As she turned and started to walk away from the King, Wren stopped.

"Thank you for helping her, Alistair," she said softly and sighed, "Call me when you need me."


	3. Home

She quickened her pace; her heart thumping against her ribcage. She thought she could fight it, but he still has that effect that hits you in the face when you're not expecting it. She _hated _feeling that way. The elves watched her with awe as she darted past them.  
Wren opened the door of her old home. Her father left it to his only daughter, but as Wren was on the run at the time he passed away, she gave it to her cousins and any family that they create. With the money she received for being the Hero of Ferelden, she added a second floor to her little house.

Wren ran the tips of her fingers over the gritty wall, trying to remember all those years ago when the Alienage was frowned upon, when there were nothing but dull, everyday life flooding the small community. Well… more then there is now.

"Hello," Valora greeted her, raising her head from chopping a variety of decent vegetables that they could now afford. She raised her hand and smiled half-heartedly. Soris strolled down the newly constructed stair and sat down in a dining chair.

"Hey Wren," he smiled, "Long day?"  
She dropped down in a seat across from him and sighed loudly.

"You have _no _idea."  
She rested her head on her arms that were folded on the small table. Her eyes followed the grain of the aging wood.

"Hope told us about what happened at the Market," Soris said quietly informing her; she kept quiet, "She said you looked angry when you saw… _him._"  
Wren sighed; she lifted her head and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

"Did she, now?" the elf mumbled. Soris watched his cousin carefully, knowing that Alistair was a touchy subject.

"What happened… after she left?"  
Wren's eyes snapped up to his; she slowly leant back in her chair, eyeing her prodding cousin.

"We… talked," she answered, "He asked when I arrived here. I told him last night."  
Soris raised his eyebrows, prodding for more information again. _Maker,_ she thought, _he looks like so much like Father_.

"He then asked about Hope – you should have been there, Cousin! He squirmed like a worm!" she chuckled darkly. As Soris was shaking his head at his cousin, Hope squealed down the stairs with Shianni chasing her closely making what she thought were dragon noises.

"Mu- ummy!" the young elf giggled, running behind her chair, "Save me from the dragon!"  
Valora laughed softly at her sister-in-law who was in an odd pose.

"No… no I don't think I can," Wren sighed, "You see, I need my trusty steed with me."  
Hope raised her hands to her hips and glared at her mother; quickly, she put two fingers to her mouth and blew. The whistle made everyone flinch as it hit their sensitive ears. A scattering sound could be heard from the room above, it started to move down the stairs and into the room. Blaise, the old Mabari war hound, barged his way to his mistress. Wren's chair was pushed backwards and so was she as her dog jumped on her; his tongue flicked its way all over her face. Hope rested a hand on Blaise's back and looked straight at her mother.

"Here's your _steed_."


	4. Unravelling Secrets

"Ah, Alistair," Zevran grinned, "You look worn out, my friend."  
He glared at the Antivan elf.

"You didn't say you were writing to her," he growled, "Let alone say that _she was coming back_!"

Zevran scratched the back of his head and laughed awkwardly.

"It was supposed to be a surprise-"

"_A surprise? _Well it defiantly was a bloody surprise!" Alistair raged, "The way she _looked _at me… it was like I was a piece of nug shit!"  
Zevran rolled his eyes at the dramatic king. He sighed and slumped down in an arm chair of the small office. Letters, invitations and random notes were scattered over the large, mahogany desk. Leliana cautiously entered the room; she eyed the two men curiously.

"What's with all the yelling?"  
Alistair sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

"Wren's back," he answered. Leliana's eyes grew wide and then snapped to Zevran. She knew he wrote to her, saying they would need her help. Leliana took a hardcover book the was on the table beside her and hit the elf with it.

"WHY. DIDN'T. YOU. TELL. ME. SHE. WAS. BACK!" she snarled with each thud. Zevran slid out from under her attack and faced her, rubbing his head.

"That really hurt!" he whimpered. The two humans crossed their arms over their chest and gave him a silencing look. Alistair retreated to the chair behind his desk.

"She also had a child with her…Hope I think her name was," he murmured. A part of him wanted to know if his thoughts that were tearing him up inside were true. Zevran and Leliana shuffled their feet and looked anywhere that wasn't him. Realisation hit him.

"You knew. You _knew _about the girl!"  
They had never seen Alistair like this; his anger had never been unleashed outside the battlefield. It was frightening. Zevran was the first to speak.

"Why does it matter so much to you if she has a child or not?" Zevran asked sternly. Alistair opened his mouth, but closed it quickly. Leliana slowly stepped towards the desk.

"We _wanted _to tell you about Hope; honest to the Maker himself," she explained softly, "But Wren made us promise not to tell _anyone _about her but her family."  
He frowned at her words. Why would she hide something like that? _Probably for her safety,_ was his first thought, _but we could have kept her safe. This makes no sense…_

"Do you know who the father is?" Alistair asked quietly, breaking the silence. His two friends looked at each other.

"Well… to be honest," Zevran answered, "I don't even think _she _knows."  
Alistair groaned and rubbed his eyes.

_Perfect._


	5. Greetings

Wren entered the gates of the castle, being gawked at by every living thing that she passed. She was too famous for her own good and now everyone was even _more _interested with her, because a small girl followed her everywhere and held her hand. A week had past when a guard had been sent to tell her that the King needed his Warden.

"Wren!" Leliana squealed as she saw her old friend. She almost knocked the poor elf over with her excitement that resembled Blaise's bounding and barking at the redheaded Bard.  
Wren hugged her tightly.

"Oh, my!" Leliana gushed, moving on to Hope, "You've grown so beautiful!"  
She beamed. Hope had grown up with Leliana and Zevran, although she had left suddenly when Hope was two; she visited every two or three years afterwards. Leliana embraced the girl and spun her around.  
The three of them (with the dog trailing behind happily) strolled through the castle chatting.

"It's been so _dull _without you," Leliana complained; Wren chuckled.

"What – the Seekers weren't exciting enough for you?"  
The two laughed again. Wren had missed her so much; her laugh, her soft smile and her voice that would make any God cry with happiness. Hope felt giddy with excitement; it was her second time in Ferelden and now she was inside the walls of the King himself!  
Time had quickly swept away was they found their selves at their destination; two large, oak doors with iron patterns of ivy curling all over the wood stood before them.

"Are you ready?" Leliana asked her friend. Wren looked down at her daughter as she took her hand.

"Yes," she smiled. Leliana opened one of the large doors and entered first; Hope softly tugged at her mother's hand.

"Let's go," Wren sighed, following her friend.


	6. Complications

Leliana entered the room with a huge grin.

"Guess who I have with me-"  
Before anyone could answer an over-excited mabari hound charged his way through the doors and towards Alistair and Zevran.

"Blaise?" Alistair chuckled, staggering to his feet once more, "Where do you come from?"

"Sorry about him – I think he's please to see everyone again."  
Wren was now by Leliana's side watching carefully. Hope on the other hand ran over to the dog and hugged his neck.

"You have _horrible _manners, Blaisey!" she giggled. Alistair watched the young girl hang off the hound, a grin spreading across his face.

"Wren, my dear!" Zevran exclaimed, opening his arms for a hug. She embraced him tightly, taking in the Antivan leather scent on his skin.

"It has been too long," he murmured in her ear, "We have missed you."  
The embrace ended and he smiled softly.

"Is that my beautiful princess I hear?" he asked, spinning around in Hopes direction. She turned her head, squealed and ran towards the elf.

"ZEVRAN!"  
He caught her as she flung herself towards him. Wren laughed softly as she watched the two. Alistair caught her eye; he too was watching them with what looked like a sense of longing. She strolled over to him. Blaise gave a happy bark as she scratched behind his ears.

"He's so _old_ now," Alistair mused, looking at her, "It's making _me _feelold!"  
She laughed. It had been so long since she had properly laughed. Wren stared at him curiously, wondering what made him look at her daughter in such a way.

Hope was lead to the palace gardens by a servant boy as they started business.

"So, what's the problem?" Wren asked, settling down in a red, squishy loveseat. Leliana sat down beside her.

"There are whispers of Orlais reclaiming Ferelden," Alistair answered, "Yet it's evolved to greater acts than rumours."  
Zevran swaggered his way to an armchair and slumped down.

"They found groups of rebels in the Orlesian forests planning…" he told the other elf.

"But, thank the Maker, Empress Celene ended it all!" Leliana sighed. Wren looked at each of them, giving them a look of confusion.

"If the she'd finished it all, why is it still a problem?"

"We caught an apostate mage with some followers," he answered, "They were trying to sneak into the city."  
Leliana cleared her throat softly after her friend gave him another confused look.

"One of the followers was a Bard."

"Shit."


	7. Fear

Leliana and Zevran had left the room, leaving Wren and Alistair alone together. She slowly moved to the balcony overseeing the gardens; Hope was sitting next to a large blossom tree. The boy sat besides her chatting happily.

"She's truly beautiful," Alistair murmured. He was watching the two children.

"Um… thank you," she answered. He looked at her and smiled; her heart stopped a little. She turned her gaze back to her daughter and the boy. He was now teaching her names of different flowers that were blooming everywhere.

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

"Oh, what about?"

"How about why you told Zevran and Leliana to not say anything about Hope?" he asked sternly. I frowned.

"Why does it matter-"

"It matters to me, Wren!" he growled, "You disappear after what happened in Highever, the Seekers come barging through interrogating everyone you knew and then I find out that Zevran and Leliana knew where you were; to add on to that I find out _almost ten years later _that you're now a mother!"  
Wren snapped around to face him; her glare pierced his eyes.

"I don't see how it's any of your business," she spat, "It didn't concern you and if I had it my way, no one would have known about her. It's safer that way…"  
She turned away from him, looking out in the garden again. Anger coursed through her. _How dare he! _She raged.

"I could have helped with her safety…" Alistair said softly. She scoffed.

"I left Ferelden for a reason, Alistair," Wren said bitterly, "I'm only here because Hope needs somewhere close to family. _Somewhere safe._"  
She let out a sad sigh.

"But even that's gone now…"  
Alistair took her hand apologetically; she snatched it away.

"Don't. Just… don't." she shook her head, fear filling her eyes. She couldn't let a small gesture lead to bigger touch. Her heart still hurt.  
He hung his head. She quickly left the room, fearing the tears that were threatening to spill.

"I'm sorry, Wren."  
He turned to look out at the children once more; the boy had handed something to Hope. As he moved to her side again, Alistair could see a blood-red rose cupped in her hands.


	8. Roses are Red

He handed her the rose; she touched the velvet red petals in admiration. Hope had only seen a flower this beautiful once and that was by accident…

_They were living in an old, rundown shack in Hossberg, Anderfels. Her mother was out hunting and scavenging for food that had become increasingly scarce. Hope wandered around the building; for a shack it was pretty large. Granted there was only one bedroom and her mother slept there, but there was a small corridor at the end where they would wash themselves – it had a door and everything! She slowly opened the door of the bedroom, collecting clothes she would wash out of pure boredom. Blaise followed her every step occasionally bumping into her as she stopped to pick something up. As she straightened up after picking up a red shirt, something caught her eye; the bedside table's draw was open slightly and a ghostly glow seeped out. Hope placed the clothes gently on the bed as her curiosity got the better of her. She slowly open the draw more to find a rose. It was breathtakingly beautiful; the soft glow and occasional sparkle indicated that it had an enchantment place upon it. Why would her mother have this? Why hadn't she seen it before? Her nimble fingers picked it up by the stem; she lifted it to her nose, taking in the sweat aroma. Blaise softly whined as he looked at the rose. Something hurt him at the sight of it. Her curiosity of this strange flower strengthened.  
Later that night Hope could hear someone sobbing. She followed the sound; it led her to the bedroom. Slowly, Hope opened the door to find her mother on the bed. Wren's back was turned away from the door as she cried into hands. Blaise whined and rested his head on her knee, trying to cheer his mistress up. The bed creaked as Hope climbed up onto the bed behind her; her little arms wrapped around her mother's neck._

"_I'm sorry," Wren sniffed, "Did I wake you?"_

"_No," she lied. Hope's eyes dashed to the rose that was in Wren's hand._

"_Why are you crying, mummy?" Hope whispered. The flower was the cause of her family's sadness, she could feel it. Wren brushed the tears away from her eyes._

"_I'm sad," she answered her daughter._

"_Why?"_

"_Because I lost someone I loved..."_

Hope remembered that night like it was yesterday; she had never seen her mother cry until then.

"Thank you, Rowan," she thanked the boy. He eyed her closely.

"Why do you look sad?" he asked. The sun that escaped through leaves danced across her face; his heart skipped a beat at her beauty. Hope sighed and looked up at the chocolate haired boy.

"It doesn't matter," she murmured, faking a smile, "This truly is beautiful."  
He took the flower from her hands and tucked it in her hair.

"No," Rowan beamed, "_Now _it is."


	9. Pressure

_I have to get out… I can't think…I can't breathe… he's everywhere!_

She dodged the servants down the hall, aiming for the door leading out of the palace. She was so close when another door opened and she ran right into it.

"Wren!" Leliana gasped, closing the door and then aiding her friend. Wren groaned as she touched the lump on her forehead.

"I am so sorry –"

"I'm fine Leli'!" she tried to reassure the woman, but Leliana would have none of that. Her soft, warm hands prodded the egg softly.

"Well," she sighed with a hint of a smile, "At least your hair will hide it, so won't ruin your pretty image of a face."  
Wren rolled her eyes. Leliana took the elf's hand in hers and led her out the door she was initially headed towards. The cold, morning air hit their faces; Wren was thankful for this as her head was started to pound. The two casually walked out of the gates and then rested against a wall.

"So, what happened? Why were you running?"  
Her head snapped around to Leliana. _Ugh, she's giving me that knowing look, _she thought.

"I thought I could do this – be _here_… but I was wrong," Wren answered, hanging her head. Leliana rested her hand on her shoulder.

"We need you here though," she said softly to her friend.

"I know!" Wren flung her hands up in the air, "But who doesn't?"  
Leliana watched the elf rage; she was falling apart at the seams. One tug could end her.

"Everyone wants something of me; whether it's from being a mother or because I killed some freaking dragon!"  
Wren's green eyes were filled with tears; they met Leliana's blue and she rushed towards her for a comforting embrace.

"It's too much, Leliana," Wren sobbed.

"I know, I know…" she cooed. After a few minutes, the women had let go of each other. Leliana rested her hands on her friend's shoulders and sighed.

"If you want, you could help me with the suspected Orlesian spies?"  
A reluctant grin spread across Wren's face.


	10. Tales

_**Sorry for the delay; I had writer's block. Thank the lord for fan art and fanfiction to keep me on my toes, otherwise you'd all be left with silence - *le gasp* the horror!  
I do hope you enjoy this chapter, though.  
See you, my lovelies**_

_**SarcasticPieWithdrawl xx **_

Two guards dragged the Bard into a dark room; a woman stood before him. The sun from the only window gleamed upon her fiery red hair. He knew her.

"Well, if it isn't Leliana – Marjolaine's little whore," he hissed before the guards hit him across the face and kicked him in the gut.

"Leave us," she ordered the two men. Leliana looked at him with – was it pity? The man spat blood onto the floor a glared back up at her.

"You know me, so it is only polite to tell me yours."

"Andre," he answered through gritted teeth. She approached him slowly and squatted down to his level. His wrists wriggled in the tight chains; if she was going to do something to him, he wouldn't be able to defend himself.

"Can you please answer my questions?" Leliana asked; she sighed as he continued to glare, "You were caught sneaking into the palace – can you please tell me why?"

"And why should I tell you?" Andre questioned, shaking with anger, "My sister is dead and you did _nothing _about it!"  
The slender red head snapped to her original position. She felt like she'd been slapped and deservedly so. Leliana would have to break her own rules to break him.

"Answer her." Someone growled. Andre's eyes snapped to the shadows; it was too dark to see a face, but someone was defiantly there with them.

"I didn't think the legendary Leliana would need assistance for an interrogation," he sneered, turning his head to Leliana, "Oh how the mighty have fallen-"  
Her hand slashed across the face; Leliana grabbed him by his sweat stained shirt. Her face was so close to his, he could smell the sweet floral scent on her skin.

"My _assistance _is for your safety, NOW ANSWER ME!"  
He laughed.

"Do you think I believe this charade?" he asked her quietly, "I know you don't like the violence that is promised in situations like this. Everyone working for Marjolaine knew."  
Leliana's blue eyes still pierced his, even though she was silent.

"_You don't scare me, Leliana."_

"Yeah? Well you should fear _me_," Wren threatened, stepping out of the shadows and into the light. Andre's eyes widened; he had heard stories of the Hero of Ferelden all ending with her enemies slain or disappearing.  
Leliana slowly backed away from the man to make room for the elf. Wren branded a small knife from her pocket; she fiddled with it in her fingers.

"You're a Bard, aren't you Andre?" she asked him quietly. He nodded quickly as she walked around him. She stopped her pace behind him; his breathing quickened.

"Then you have obviously heard stories of myself, whether true or not?" she questioned, her lips at his ear. _Bloody hell - she can read minds!_ He thought.

"Y-yes," Andre stammered. The small knife caressed his cheek lightly; she laughed softly.

"Do you want to find out if the tales are true?" Wren asked sweetly, pressing the blade to his skin. He was now shaking. Leliana cleared her throat and shook her head to her friend. The blade was released and put away as the elf strolled back over to the red head's side.

"Will you answer now?" Leliana asked. He looked over at Wren and nodded quickly.

"We – my sister and I – were hired to get ourselves into the castle walls," Andre explained, "After Marjolaine's death things had been hard so we accepted…"

"Who hired you?" Leliana asked.

"The Crows, but they're hired by someone else too –"

"Who?"

"I have no idea," he sighed, "Some woman was there with them. She was more interested in my sister's powers."  
He stared at the ground sadly.

"The Crows sent us with one of their own and three other mercenaries that died at the first gate," he continued, "This allowed us to sneak through the servants' exit. We thought we'd done it, but we were wrong; there was another wall – finely built too. Not even the Crow could get over."

"And this is when you were caught?" Wren asked him. He nodded once.

"I didn't know the other man was a Crow…" Leliana murmured to herself. Wren looked at her then turned her gaze back to the man.

"Why were you hired and why was one of the Crows with you?"

"I told you that we needed to get inside; if there was anything else, I do not know about it," he answered her, "As for the Crow, I know his name's Antony. He knows more than I, but do not trust him."  
Before they left, Wren ordered the guards to unshackle him.

"Thank you, Andre," Leliana said quietly, "And I am truly sorry for your sister's death. The visiting Templars were not supposed to act the way they did –"

"You mean _kill?_" he spat. She sighed sadly and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"For what it's worth… I would have taken her place if I had the choice. She left silently out the door to let the man mourn and ponder at her words.


	11. Answers

The two women marched down the corridor with swift grace.

"Leli', is something wrong?" the elf asked softly. Leliana blinked her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Er… no – "  
Wren scoffed. She stopped in her tracks and faced her friend.

"Don't lie to me," she frowned, "What's up?"  
The redhead sighed and pressed her back to the stone wall.

"The mage… I could have done something whether it helped or not, but I just _stood there…" _she whispered, "The Templars were here for a meeting with Alistair and when my scouts caught the three of them, those mage-hating-bastards walked past. When they saw her…"  
Tears started to spill over her rosy cheek; Wren took her hand gently.

"You couldn't have anything," she murmured, "They would have done everything in their power end her life, claiming her as a malificar or bloodmage. Not even the King would be able stop to them…"

"But I _could have done something!"_ Leliana sobbed. Wren hugged her friend like she had done for her only hours ago.

"We're pretty broken, aren't we?"  
Leliana laughed sadly. She sniffed and composed herself.

"Right," she huffed, "Let's have a chat with this Crow."

**. . .**

They were now at the cell door; three armoured men were guarding the entrance.

"We may need to be forceful," Wren warned Leliana, "So let me deal with him."  
She entered the cell first, followed by Leliana. A man was shackled to the wall; he was muscular a lean. Mahogany curtains hid his eyes from the two women.

"Who do I owe the pleasure of two beautiful women visiting me in my…" he chuckled, "_Love_ boudoir?"

"Don't make me wretch," Leliana said, disgusted. Wren ignored her; she gave him a half smile. She strutted towards him in a way she once saw Zevran's _friend_, Isabela, walk. He shook his hair out of eyes to have a better look at the elf; sly grin stretched across his face. _Wren Tabris; the Hero of Ferelden, _he thought.

"Antony, is it?" Wren asked with a sickly sweet voice.

"Who wants to know?" he asked huskily. She cocked her head and smiled once more. The Crow's chin lifted up by her index finger; Wren's face was now inches away.

"I do," she purred, "You see, I know why you were put in here. I know that the Crows hired the mage and her brother, with that, your boss sent you with them."  
He was quiet, watching her cautiously.

"What I don't know or understand is why and who would hire the Crows and then send one of their own with _two other _hired assassins," she continued, now stroking the side of his stubble covered jaw with her thumb, "Can you help me, Antony?"

"What's in it for me?" Antony asked, his cheeky smile returning again. The elf pressed herself closer to him, her hand still on his face. She could feel his desire growing; a seductive smile painted her face.

"You're life," Wren whispered in his ear. His teeth clenched together; he hated being played.

"I am not like you're Zevran Arainai," he hissed back in hers, "I do not betray my brothers."  
She backed away from him, her face unreadable.

"You _will_ answer me," she murmured; he laughed. As he did this, Wren's knuckles collided with his jaw. The Crow was stunned and this gave her an advantage; her knee flew up between his legs. Antony cried out. He was now on his knees coughing up blood.

"Just because you have one group dead or chained, does not mean we will give up," he laughed, spitting out some blood and winced at the throbbing pain in his groin, "They'll both die… eventually. Especially now they're in the same country-"  
Wren kicked his side.

"Who are you targeting?" she hissed, giving him another shattering kick in the ribs. Leliana gasped. An insane laugh escaped the man's lips.

"Two of the most powerful beings in Thedas," he answered with wild eyes, "And…"  
Antony sat up slowly, gasping at the pain in his ribs. He looked straight up in Wren's eyes; a dark grin slowly stretched across his face.

"And," he repeated, his face darkening, "The ones you keep so close to that elf heart of yours."  
Wren froze, fear trickling into her. They wanted _her_. They wanted _him_. Alistair it made sense; he was the king, but Hope…

"She knows _everything_, therefore we know _everything!"  
_Her hands locked around the collar of his shirt, pulled him to his feet and pinned him to the wall. She placed Fang at his throat.

"_What do you want with them_?" she snarled. He laughed once more, but winced once again.

"Not me – _her," _the Crow answered.

"Who is she?" she questioned. Antony's eyes widened at her question.

"_Fierra!_"


	12. Once Upon a December

**_Why hello there lovelies,  
I would like to just say Merry Christmas! I hope you have a wonderful Ney Year too._**

**_Lots of love,  
SarcasticPieWithdrawl xx_**

**_P.S. I do not own either Dragon Age nor Anastasia songs..._**

* * *

Alistair was sitting in his chair, watching the moon outside his study window. Her face blinded him and her voice so filled with anger flooding his ears. The times he had seen her react that way was when she found out the truth of Zathrian's revenge. Blaise nudged his knee and whined. He smiled at the old dog as he scratched behind his ears; it astounding him that the old boy was still alive.

"Thank you for allowing me to take some flowers," a high voice rang. Alistair gave Hope a grin.

"I can never resist a pretty little lady," he chuckled, giving her a wink. She blushed, letting out a little giggle. Hope shuffled over to the mabari and placed a wreath of flowers on his head.

"Now Blaise is a pretty too!" she giggled. Alistair laughed with her; she had the same trill as Wren.  
At that moment, Wren crashed into the room with Leliana by her side. She ran to her daughter and embraced her tightly.

"Mum-"

"Maker," Wren whispered, her gasps lowering her volume. Alistair was now on his feet at the abrupt entering.

"What's going on?"  
He looked to Wren then to Leliana. The Bard was silent, staring at him with fear in her eyes.

"Wren… please," he breathed, "What's wrong?"  
All the anger that had engulfed him earlier had disappeared; her wide eyes were swimming with tears.

"You're being targeted," she answered, he voice shaking, "You and Hope… by someone who's now involved the Crows."

**. . .**

After that night, Wren and Hope had now been moved to two of the Palace's rooms for safety. The Tabris house was now under constant supervision by hidden scouts and guards in case anyone tried to target any other family member; the other elves in the Alienage curiosity and annoyance were increasing as more humans filled their streets.

"Mother," Hope said quietly, "Is it my fault they want me?"  
Wren stopped tucking the little girl in the large four post bed for the night.

"Of course not!" she frowned, caressing the side of her daughter's face. Hope wasn't convinced though; she knew the reason why she, her mother and Blaise travelled around Thedas – the Seekers were… well, seeking her for reasons unknown. But now these Crows were out to get them too. _No_, she thought_, they want me and King Alistair_.

"Why would ask such a thing?" Wren questioned.

"Nobody like mages…" Hope whispered. The elf kissed the child's forehead.

"_I _do."  
Wren stood up from the bed and began to blow out the candles that illuminated the room.

"Sing to me," Hope requested, "Please?"  
She smiled at her daughter and sighed, one song already on her lips.

"_Dancing bears  
Painted wings  
Things I almost remember,  
And a song someone sings  
once upon a December,"_

The words were soft and light; her voice reminded Hope of clouds and soft goose feathers.

"_Someone holds me safe and warm,  
horses prance through a silver storm,  
Figures dancing gracefully,  
across my memory,"_

Wren picked up Hope's stuffed griffon; it had an eye missing and a torn wing that was hastily sewn back to its body again. She moved slowly towards the bed and handed it to her daughter.

"_Far away, long ago  
things I yearn to remember  
and a song someone sings  
Once upon a December,"_

She blew out the last of the candles, leaving the light from the moon fill the room. Blaise jumped up onto the bed and settled himself down.

"_And a song someone sings…"_

Wren's voice became quiet as she kissed her daughter once more.

"_Once upon a December…" _she smiled, finishing the lullaby, "Good night my heart, I promise you that no one will harm you."  
She left the room, closing the door softly. Hope sat up in her bed, holding the griffon tight and stroking the mabari. She placed the toy in her lap; a soft ball of light emerged in her hand. With a flick of her hand the ball exploded in the air with a _pop!_ Miniscule lights floated up to the ceiling of the room, creating a night sky for her to fall asleep under.


	13. Nightmares

Wren shut the door quietly, nodding towards the armoured men that were guarding her daughter's room. Her heart tightened at Hope's words; she was so young and already blaming herself for someone else's evil.  
The elf walked down the corridor to her own room, passing the guards that loomed around her door. Wren stripped her clothes off and slipped under the covers of the four-post bed. She slowly drifted to sleep to find something waiting for her…

_Darkness drifted around her; it made her claustrophobic. She tried to run, but it was everywhere. Wren screamed out hoping to pulled out, but no one answered. No warm, strong hands that she desired to save her from the fog. She was now surrounded by shades, rage demons, ogres and many other monsters that she had fought. Her weapons were nowhere to be seen; how could she do this?  
A light grew in the distance. It came closer and closer until it blinded Wren. There was a crack and her enemies vanished. She gasped as she looked around where the beasts and demons surrounded her. The light vanished, but the creator had not; Hope stood in her wake staring up at her mother._

"_Hope?" Wren whispered. The little girl ran towards her and she opened her arms automatically. She caressed her daughter's face taking in every feature. Wren's eyes locked with Hope's. Her smile faded as the little girl's eyes changed. The emerald green slowly turned to piercing amber. Wren backed away, fear pulsing through her at the sight of the familiar eyes. Hope's face contorted; her nose grew straighter, golden locks grew darker until it matched the surrounding darkness, her hair shot back into her skull leaving her with shaggy, raven hair. Hope's legs grew a few inches taller and her skin was snow white.  
Wren no longer knew her daughter. In fact, it __**was **__no longer her daughter. A thin boy stood before her, his familiar eyes glowing in the dark…_

Wren was sitting upright, gasping for air. _It was him,_ she thought, _it had to be._  
She climbed out of her bed a hastily put on her clothes again, walking barefoot out her door. Almost running, Wren followed the corridors to the kitchen. Whenever she had nightmares or couldn't sleep her mother use to make her warm milk with sweet spices. She pushed the door open to find someone already in there. It was neither chef nor a servant. It Alistair with cheese stuffed in his mouth and platters of fruit, bread, meats and other cheeses lay in front of him. Gravy smothered his face. _No wonder why all the Grey Wardens found this sight amusing, _she thought, fighting the giggles.  
It didn't work though, as Wren burst out laughing when she saw him; he jumped at the sound of her. He stared at her with wide-eyes and then composed himself.

"Are you done?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing the drumstick in his hand towards her. Wren raised one finger and let out the last of her giggles before she joined the wooden table he sat at.

"I'm not sharing," he warned wrapping his arms around the food protectively; Wren rolled her eyes. She walked towards a cupboard where she found a kettle. Quickly she filled it up with water and set it upon the stove which she had lit.

"So," Alistair started up, wiping his gravy covered chin, "Why are you down here?"

"I…had I nightmare," She answered, not really sure if that is what she would have normally called it. Wren had her back to him, but she could feel his intent gaze on her.

"Do you want…to, um, talk about it?" he asked, thinking of the worst. She looked over her shoulder, smiled and shook her head.

"I'm fine now."

"My I ask why _you're _down her, oh Royal One?" Wren finally asked after preparing her beverage.

"I couldn't sleep," he answered, watching her sip her milk, "And I was incredibly peckish."  
She laughed. His heart fluttered at the sound; oh, how he had missed it. Her long fingers stretched over and took some bread amongst all the other food.

"Hey!" he scolded. Wren rolled her eyes.

"You won't be able to fit in your armour if you eat anymore," she pointed out. He let out a gasp.

"You wound me, woman!"  
She laughed again, tearing bits of bread up. Wren couldn't remember how much she had laughed within a short time. It had had been so long…  
Alistair watched her silently, wondering what she was thinking.

"How's Hope?" he asked her quietly. Wren's eye fluttered as she was pulled out of her own little world.

"She's fine, I guess," she answered quietly, "Somehow she blame's herself for this mess."  
Wren shook her head irritably.

"Sounds like you-"

"More like her father." She corrected. Something pulled at his heart hearing her words…  
Wren sipped her drink and ate some of the bread.

"Who is he?" Alistair asked, barely making a sound. She closed her eyes and sighed softly.

"Can we _not _talk about this?" she whispered, "I know you want answers, Maker, everyone wants them," her hands softly brushed his hand, "But _I'm_ not ready for them."

* * *

An old woman paced down the stone steps with a young elf.

"Now, I want you to take tea and toast up to Warden Tabris when you wake her up," she ordered her, "And don't forget to take her clothing for Rose to wash."  
The elf nodded quickly. She was asked specifically by the Hero of Ferelden to serve her – she was friends with her older sister when they were young.

"Of course, Madam Millicent," she piped up.

"And don't mess-up. I don't want to cleanup your errors like last time," the old woman warned, "I couldn't get the stain out of the King's-"  
She stopped dead at the sight in the kitchens. They were the only people there besides the bodies that were soundlessly asleep. Surrounded by food, the King and the Hero were resting their heads on the old table. Their hands were so close together, the tips of their fingers touching, one would have thought they fell asleep holding hands.


	14. Target Practise and Rumour Madness

Hope skipped down the hall with a bounding Blaise and a guard behind her. She found herself in the training area; a large ring with a brick fencing around it. She was mesmerized as Zevran weaved his way through the training recruits, attacking them from every angle. He looked proudly around at his work gasping for air and trying to crawl to their feet.

"Ah, the little princess has come to watch!" he grinned. Hope made her way to the elf, stepping carefully over the groaning men.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Training," he answered, "You never know when I have to save you or your dear mother's life."  
He gave her a wink. Zevran took her small hand in his and led her to the weapons rack. Hope admired the shimmering blades and shields; she had watched her mother use her blades, Fang and Starfang, on the odd occasion and every time it dazzled her. She was graceful with her leaps and hits, quick and dangerous. Hope wanted to be her, but Wren had never allowed her.

"Zev…"she said quietly, "Could you…teach me to fight?"  
He was slightly shocked at the request. _Wren wouldn't like it… _he thought.

"Alright," he grinned.

* * *

Leliana made her way to Hope's room where a servant had said Wren was; she entered. Her friend was quietly tidying the room.

"You know there are people who do that," the red head mused. Wren, with her sensitive elf hearing, had heard her come in.

"As over half of them I know like family," she answered, facing her, "I'd rather not."  
Leliana sighed. She strolled over to the small love seat under the large window facing the hills. At night you could just see the lights from Soldier's Peak in the distance. Wren turned to her silent friend to see a mischievous grin on her lips.

"What…?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh nothing," Leliana sung, "I just heard some things that were…_interesting."  
_Wren placed her hands on her hips and gave her a quizzical look.

"I didn't think you were one for gossip, Leli',"

"I'm not, but when it comes to certain subjects I can't just ignore it."  
Her cheeky grin grew wider as she stared at her friend.

"Subjects?" Wren questioned curiously, "Who or what were they about?"  
Leliana giggled.

"You and Alistair,"

* * *

The guards watched in amazement as the two elves were duelling; Wren had picked up Zevran's skills quickly and although he didn't try as hard, fearing he may injure Hope, that didn't stop the young elf giving her all. Her strikes were perfect, her flips and dodges were speedy and her landings were light footed. Zevran couldn't attack her, so instead he blocked every swift move.

"I YIELD! I YIELD!" he cried. Hope backed off, her chest rising rapidly. Their audience applauded at the astounding show.

"You didn't fight back, Zev," she frowned. He chuckled, brushing off his armour.

"I don't think you're mother would be too pleased if I did."  
Hope put back the daggers and took out a bow. She was familiar with one of _these_; when her mother left to get food, Hope would practise with the bow that Wren never used. After a while her mother found out about it and hid the bow, scolding her for using her skill in the Arcane arts. This made her practise aiming with magic instead.  
Alistair had now come out to watch, after spotting them duel on his daily stroll.

"Zev," Hope piped up, "Can you please get the targets?"  
Curious, he followed her order; the targets were placed around the edge the area. Zevran exited the arena and headed up to the King's side.  
She instantly shot a bull's eye. Hope took a few more arrows and spun around. Arrows were sent flying like lightning and each one landed a bull's eye. The onlookers gasped in amazement and applauded once more.

"She could give Leliana a run for her money," Alistair laughed, clapping with his men.

* * *

Wren's face reddened, whether in rage or embarrassment Leliana couldn't tell.

"What about?" the breathed, unable to speak louder. She thought the whole of Ferelden had finally forgotten about their relationship, her worst fears were now settling back. It was part of the reason she travelled all over Thedas.

"Two of the staff members found you two asleep in the kitchens," the redhead answered, who continued to smirk, "Care to explain?"

"There's nothing _to _explain - nothing happened."

"Of course not!" Leliana sighed, rolling her eyes. She got to her feet and started to walk of the room, "When you would like to talle me everything, you can find me in the training area."

"No, Leliana, I swear-" Wren started to call out defensively, but the Bard left with a cheeky wink. She let out an angry sigh.

"Maker, help me find patience!"


	15. Secret Keeper

_Wren Tabris placed a small golden ring on her side table; it hummed softly in harmony with a crackling of the fire. She caressed her round belly gently as she watched the guards swap over for the twilight shift. Blaise snored loudly by her bed. She jumped slightly as someone rapped on the door._

"_Commander?" a voice called out._

"_The door's open, Anders."  
The mage entered the room; he scanned the room for the elf, only to find that she had her back to him._

"_You called for me?" he asked, moving to the fireplace._

"_That I did," she sighed, "Did anyone follow you?"  
Anders looked at the back of her head, his curiosity increasing._

"_No… why?  
At that moment she turned around. He gasped, stared at her in horror and confusion._

"_But you – skinny then BLOMPH! And you fought –now you're… THIS!" he cried out, scrambling for words and flailing his arms around trying to describe what he was thinking, "Oh, I need whisky."  
He slumped exhaustedly into the squishy couch in front of the fire, rubbing his temples. Wren delivered his wish; she handed him a diamond bottle with bronze liquid in it._

"_I know it's a lot to handle and incredibly confusing," she murmured._

"_You've got that right –"_

"_So let me explain!" she pleaded. He nodded, taking a mouthful from the bottle. She sat down next to him slowly._

"_When I found out I was pregnant I panicked because I had no idea when I was to return to Ferelden to face everyone," Wren explained, "Two dwarves who accompanied me in the past had also joined me on my ship to where ever I wished to go; one of them, Sandal, enchanted a ring for me in such a way that to anyone, even myself, I would look as thin as a twig instead of the fattest nug in Thedas."  
She chuckled slightly._

"_So when you were fighting the other night…" Anders questioned quietly._

"_I was fighting with this little thing latching itself onto me, yes," she answered. The mage's eyes widened as his head snapped around to her.__** She must have been unarmoured**__, he thought, __**she definitely wouldn't be able to fit her usual leather**__…_

"_I'm not sure whether to lecture you in how dangerous that was or be thoroughly impressed that you or the child were harmed!"  
She gave him a wink. He stood up quickly running his free hand through his dirty blonde hair._

"_Why are you telling me this?" he asked feverishly, "Why me of all people?"_

"_You're a Spirit Healer."_

"_There are many Healers awaiting you're command!"_

"_You're the only Healer I can __**trust**__," she rephrased, "You're the first person to know, Anders – I haven't even told Oghren yet!"_

"_Can you tell me why then? Why you've only told me?" he asked, starting to pace. _

"_Well, first off you're a healer," Wren answered, taking in a deep breath, "And I know that I can trust you in keeping a secret."  
Anders stopped dead and turned to face her._

"_Wait a second," he said in disbelief, "You keeping __**this **__a secret?"  
She nodded once and he followed a groan._

"_How?"_

"_I have the ring and you, plus a few others who I'll tell." She answered quietly. He let out another groan._

"_I have to, Anders," she whispered, "It's for the child and my own safety; no one is to know, unless I tell them myself."  
From everything that he was told about the Hero of Ferelden, no one ever mentioned her crying for useless reasons. __**Then again**__, Anders thought to himself, __**she is full of hormones**__.  
He placed the bottle on the ground, took her small hands in one of his and placed the other on her protruding belly._

"_If that's what you wish," he smiled up at her tear-soaked face, "Then how can I refuse?"  
She smiled back and squeezed his hand gently._

"_Can I ask who the father is?" he asked softly after she had calmed down._

"_Not unless you want to hear a lie," she answered, smiling sadly. Anders chuckled.  
Before he left the room, Wren stopped him._

"_I need my two other secret keepers, could you please send them up?"_

"_Whoever you need, my Lady," he answered with a grin. She grinned back._

"_Send up Oghren and Howe, please."_


	16. Dress to Impress

Scarlet and gold flittered down from the trees as squirrels raced through branches. Robins chased each other through the air, swooping and looping as the mocking-jays sang their melodies. Autumn had finally begun.  
Party and celebration plans were bringing in more merchants; some selling enchanted candles that changed colour and smelt of grand feasts or gardens. There were designers from Orlais visiting nobles to create fantastic designs for the Royal ball that was held every year. Spirits from the Tevinter Imperium and Antiva, aging cheeses from the Free Marchers and exotic fruits from Rivain. The Alienage began to light up as they prepared for their festival of Tree which was celebrated every year in honour of the vhenadahl, "Tree of the People".

As the elves were becoming unsettled by the humans surrounding and entering their home, Shianni and Soris were moved into the castle in hope that it would draw the dangers there and leave the Alienage alone. Despite this act, Wren posted scouts along the roof tops and in the shadows just in case; some of the elven scouts subtly watched out on the ground.

* * *

"You're going to look wonderful! I envy you," Shianni gushed as she brushed out her cousin's hair. Wren groaned. Tonight was the King's royal ball which she was obligated to attend.

"Envy me? I'll be paraded around for all the nobles to judge like a prized cow!"  
The younger elf slapped her shoulder lightly, giving her a cold stare in the mirror.

"You're lucky they even let you in," she scowled, "Or, more to the point, you're lucky they're scared of you."  
Wren chuckled. The door burst open with laughter; Leliana held a large box with a fancy pattern, Hope skipped behind her holding a pair of ruby heels.

"Your dress has arrived – you will be _fabulous!_" she sung. Hope squealed with excitement as she took her mother's hand and pulled her into the wardrobe the size of a small barn. Leliana lifted up the gown and Wren gasped. It was magnificent; the dress looked like it was constructed from autumn leaves.

"Where did you get it?" Wren asked.

"I have many friends in the fashion industry in Orlais," the Bard answered, giving the elf a wink. Leliana helped her into the masterpiece, slipping the elf's left arm in the full-length sleave that hugged her skin. Hope slipped the ruby shoes on Wren's feet.

"You look like a princess!" she gasped. Leliana eyed her at every angle, her lips pursed.

"Something around the neck, I think…" she muttered to herself. Shianni left the room and swiftly came back with a golden chain; a large, diamond shaped amber stone hung from it. Leliana picked it up and admired the jewellery.

"It's gorgeous! Why haven't I seen before?" she asked looking up at Wren.

"It was my mother's."  
No one commented on the subject after they saw Wren's face drop at the thought of her mother. She walked out of the "wardrobe" and looked into the vanity mirror; her hair was now pulled up into an elegant knot, two strands curled on either side of her face. Shianni brushed some minerals over the lids of her eyes; it was a soft brown and worked well with the "autumn look".  
There was a light rap on the door. Zevran and Soris entered; they both stopped to stare at Wren.

"Wow," Soris breathed, "You look so much like Adaia."  
A blush rose to her cheeks as she grinned to herself.

"You look like a goddess of the forest," Zevran purred.

"Thank you," she smiled, "C'mon… let's go."  
Zev held out his arm and led her out her quarters.

* * *

Everyone started to arrive, entering the Palace gates that opened to a large courtyard. On the right was the main entrance to the Landsmeet chamber where the celebration was being held. On the right was one of the many entrances to the rest of the Palace grounds; bedrooms, studies, dining rooms, kitchens, etc.  
A piano was placed where the throne originally sat with musicians setting up their musical instruments. Servants moved through the growing crowd serving drinks on silver trays.

"Did you hear," a woman wearing flamboyant colours hissed, "The Hero of Ferelden will be coming tonight."  
A man next to her sniggered; it was Bann Ceorlic. His head held very little hair and what he had was pure white. He wore a silk outfit in a shockingly bright yellow.

"I'm surprised the elf would even show her face, considering her past," he commented. The woman smirked.

"Just another knife-eared slut trying to make her way to the King again, I suppose."  
A younger woman was standing with them. She wore a sickly pink gown that she bragged about being "_the finest Orlais has made_". Her brown hair was pinned back in a tropical flower that smelt like someone had drowned it in fruity perfume.

"I doubt she'll even wear a dress –"

"I don't even think she owns one." The older woman interrupted.

"Maybe she'll wear that old armour she wore at the coronation!" the younger woman laughed. It slightly sounded like a horse. Bann Ceorlic and the old woman chuckled coldly.

"Oh Habren, you're so _bad_-"  
The three stopped in dead silence as they met the glare of their King.

"It would be wise to not speak in such a manner of the woman that saved our country," Alistair growled and then turned to Habren, "I suggest you head over to your father, Lady Habren."  
She swallowed hard, bowed and left quickly. He gave them one last disapproving glare then left. White hot anger ran through his veins. _How could they even __**think**__ those things after everything she's done?_

"Alistair," Arl Eamon murmured, "Is something wrong?"  
He took two glasses of wine and handed one to Alistair; he took it gladly. Before answering he emptied the glass. He told him everything he heard, taking another glass of wine from a servant elf.

"Wren Tabris is tougher than a dragon," Eamon sighed, "Don't trouble yourself with ridiculous gossip… even if it's about _her_."

"It still shouldn't happen…"  
Arl Eamon shook his head then clasped his hands together with enthusiasm.

"Lady Norah will be coming tonight," he smiled, changing the subject, "But in the meantime, let us mingle!"

It wasn't long until Zavran entered the hall. He swaggered over to the King's side with a huge grin plastered on his face; the elf was wearing a black outfit that was timed with gold. Many of the women (and some of the men) stared at him with admiration.

"She'll be here any minute now, my friend," he murmured, "I told her to make an entrance."  
He gave Alistair a small wink, then left to find some noble to prey on. Alistair watched him make his way to a group of young, busty women who were chattering at the table full of food, when he heard gasps. His head spun around to the door and saw her; Wren looked amazing and everyone knew it. Habren gaped at her dress, jealousy painting her from head-to-toe. Wren looked around at all her admirers, a sexy smirk rising. She strutted with her head held high towards him.

"You're Highness," she greeted with a curtsy, "You sure know how to put on a party."

"What can I say," Alistair shrugged, "I'm a popular man."  
She grinned. The onlookers started to go back to their own business, but some still gawked at the Hero.  
The night was better than any past royal balls. It had an exciting vibe as Wren settled in; she suggested faster music which was not denied at the red-faced musicians. She had everyone dancing in frenzy. Granted the majority where drunken nobles, but they _were_ dancing. Then when the Grey Wardens arrived, all hell broke loose; Oghren and Sigrun yelled at the top of their lungs when they saw their old friend at the other side of the Landsmeet chamber. Nobles cringed away as the two dwarves charged their way to Wren.

"Is Nate with you?" she asked after receiving bone crushing hugs.

"He's been on a mission in the Free Marchers for the past couple of months –"

"Forget about Howe," Oghren interrupted Sigrun, "What about you? You just disappeared – I thought you were dead and then we couldn't find the kid… and… and…"  
He didn't finish, because fat tears started to run down his newly scrubbed face and recently washed, combed and re-braided beared. Zevran and Alistair joined them in comforting the old dwarf. Leliana strolled up too; she wore a sea-blue dress that hugged her curves flatteringly.

"Poor thing," she cooed, hugging him close. Oghren was fine after that as his head had been shoved firmly in her cleavage.  
Wren quickly found Velanna afterwards and reunited with hugs. She explained everything about why she had disappeared to the three of them.

Everyone began to catch up and introductions were made.

"Let's dance Oghren," Leliana grinned, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. Zevran chuckled.

"Be careful, my dear," he called out, "His hands wander!"

"And how would you know?" Wren questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Touché."  
Alistair walked over, his hand held out.

"Dance with me?"

"How could I refuse?" Wren smiled. They walked over to the floor when he pulled her into his arms. The music was slow and beautiful; it reminded Wren of the melodies her mother would hum around their house.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured. She blushed and looked at their feet.

"You don't look to shabby, yourself," she replied, looking up. He was so _tall_, "Although, I think a dress like this would be more flattering."

"And perfect for dancing the marigold!" he joked, his mouth pulling into his famous crooked smile. They both laughed hysterically at the memory, even though others watched them with curiosity. They danced and laughed until the song finish; they were about to dance into the next, when a servant said someone was waiting for him.  
He left her by herself, surrounded by people she didn't know until a song that she knew began to play. With that, Wren began to dance crazily again with Zevran. It wasn't long until Sigrun, Leliana and Oghren joined in, leaving Valenna watch in amusement.

"I'm gonna' go get Alistair," Wren panted, "He _needs _to see Oghren dance!"  
Zevran laughed and she walked off. She moved through the guest with ease until she saw him.

"Alistair you should see –"  
The King was no longer smiling freely, it was forced now. Arl Eamon was standing by his side as a woman was facing Alistair. They all turned to look at Wren.

"You must be the Hero of Ferelden," the woman smiled, "I've heard so much about you!"  
She had chocolate coloured hair that she wore in waves. She had ivory skin and plump lips; her eyes where sapphire blue.

"It's just Wren," she replied. Her eyes darted to Alistair's; they were filled with sadness. Arl Eamon cleared his throat.

"Miss Tabris, this is Lady Norah Angelo," he introduced, a hint of a cold smile playing on his lips, "The future queen of Ferelden."  
Everything came crashing down inside of her, but she kept her face blank.

"Oh."  
Alistair stayed silent and his eyes were locked to the ground.

"I'm sorry I interrupted." She apologized quietly. Wren left quickly heading towards the exit, but somebody caught her arm; it was Leliana.

"Are you alright?"  
Wren's eyes swam with tears.

"He's getting married. Alistair's getting married," She answered. Leliana gave her friend a sympathetic look. That made it worse.

"I just need to go to bed."  
With that, the Hero left.

* * *

She wiped the stream of tears from her face as she entered the courtyard; Wren slipped her shoes off as they started to ache. She could hear footsteps running towards her, but she didn't acknowledge it.

"Wren!" Alistair called out. She continued to walk but he had longer legs and caught up to her quickly; he pulled her around to face him.

"Wren, please listen to me –"

"Why are you here? You should be at your party…" she whispered. More tears began to run again.

"I don't _want _to be there, but don't change the subject," he replied, "I'm sorry you found out like that… it should have been me telling you instead of Eamon."  
Wren was silent. She wanted to go; she didn't want to _think _about it.

"Please go." Wren whispered, but he ignored her.

"I've never wanted to marry her, but it's been too long and I have no choice," he continued. Alistair took her hand, "Please believe me. I promised myself I would _never _hurt you again –"

"_Please go._" She whispered again. Wren wouldn't be able to control herself for so long.

"But I have," he continued quietly, full of pain, "And I hate myself for it."

"You shouldn't hate yourself," she cried softly, "Please, just go back. Please…"  
But he didn't and she snapped. She fell to her knees and started to sobbed uncontrollably. She had hoped she would be in her room at this point.

"Wren?"  
Before she knew it Alistair had her in his arms; Wren had missed his warmth and the faint nutty smell of his skin. Her hands were pressed to his chest, but that didn't stop what happened next; she rose on the tips of her toes and kissed him. His lips were warm, soft and certainly reacted to the surprise.  
Wren pulled away with her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry!"  
She ran, leaving Alistair frozen in the autumn evening air.


	17. Full Moon

It was a quiet morning after the Royal Ball. The engagement of King Alistair Theirin and Lady Norah Angelo was announced at the Ball after the Hero of Ferelden disappeared to her room. Nothing was said about Alistair and Wren running after one another, neither was the kiss that followed.

* * *

"You kissed him?" Leliana gasped. Wren's moan was muffled by plush pillows on her bed. She'd been hiding in her room all day and only Leliana was granted access. The two were lying on the grand four-post bed, but facing opposite ends. The Bard poked the elf in the ear in annoyance.

"Hey!"

"I would have done worse," she growled, "I _can't believe_ how stupid you've been! This will end horribly and _I'll _be pulled down with you!"  
Wren rolled over; propping herself up on her elbows, she heaved an angry sigh.

"You think I wanted this to happen?"

"In truth? Yes. I think you need to borrow that chastity belt you gave Zevran."  
Leliana received a blow to the head from a pillow; a chuckle escaped her lips and it soon had both of the women in giggling fits. A few minutes passed until they settled down; the elf's face dropped.

"I didn't mean it to happen," she said quietly, "But… After found out about the engagement…"  
She shook her head, trying to push the memory out. Leliana continued to stay silent.

"I told him to leave – to go back – but he's nearly as stubborn as I am. I felt like I was breaking and sure enough, I did." Wren looked down at her hands, "He was holding as I cried; I tried to stop myself, but everything was so familiar and… it just _happened_."

* * *

"She _kissed _me, Zev," Alistair explained, taking another swig from his pint, "Right on the lips!"  
He pointed frantically at his mouth, his eyes going wide.

"With the way you're acting, you seem surprised she kissed you there," the elf chuckled. He glared.

"It's not funny! Why did she do it? And – and – just _why?"_  
Zevran placed his glass back on the table and called for another round. It was a busy night at the Gnawed Noble, which was saying something as the Alistair often visited when he had spare time.

"If someone knew _why _a woman did anything, he would be the richest man in the world, my friend," he sighed, taking another glass from the wench serving them. Alistair grunted in agreement.

"I owe Oghren three sovereigns come to think of it," The elf mused; Alistair gave him a confused look, "Our dwarf friend and I made a bet a couple of years ago in who would make the first move."

"And you thought _I _would?"

"Of course." Zevran answered simply. He grumbled words into his mug.

* * *

Night had fallen over Denerim. Wren sat on the railings of her balcony, watching the light being extinguished from the town. A full moon loomed over her, illuminating her surroundings. There was a soft knock on the door and a high creek as it opened.

"A full moon," Alistair murmured from behind her. He walked slowly to the balcony a sat beside her.

"What are you doing here, Alistair?" she asked quietly.

"Well," he sighed, "As it's my bloody castle, I guess doing a ground check?"  
The corners of her mouth twitched, but she continued to stare forward. Alistair looked up at the sky.

"I'm sorry I did _that,"_ Wren whispered, "I was out of line. And I had too much wine-"

"You don't drink."

"The _point is_, I shouldn't have done it."  
They sat in an awkward silence.

"Okay, but it _will _come up again. In some way or another," Alistair said, breaking the silence. Wren looked at him at the corner of her eye and raised a brow.

"_'In some way or another'_?"

"What? You know you can't resist me," he grinned.

"You're a cocky bastard, you know that?" she noted. He raised a finger and jabbed it in her direction.

"A cocky _royal _bastard, to you!" he corrected; Wren laughed. Although she knew he was joking, she felt like someone was punching her on the inside, because she _couldn't _resist him. All the years she had trained herself to become distant with him, because he was not _her_ _Alistair _anymore, he was _King Alistair._ But she threw all the "training" out the window that night even though she knew she would get hurt.

"A full moon," Alistair said again. Wren looked up at the sky.

"They make me sad," she murmured.

"Sad? Why?" he asked curiously. She looked up at him; he was so handsome, it made her heart hurt.

"A memory." the elf answered quietly. Something clicked in his head and it made him frown.

"But that was-"

"Yes," Wren said, cutting him off, "And that's why it's sad."

* * *

A

_It was a warm night at camp; crickets chirped in the distance and frogs croaked by the lake. The embers of the campfire glowed dimly. The two Grey Wardens were lying next to one another under the stars as everyone else prepared themselves for bed. Blaise snored like a dragon next to Wren._

"_So why are we out here again?" Alistair asked, his head turning to the elf. He had to look down a little, because she was shorter than he. Every time he looked at her a warm feeling spread around his body and when she had said that her home was with him, butterflies erupted inside of him. But when she called him handsome, well, he almost fainted on the spot. Not to mention that he thought he was going to wet himself. _

"_My mother always said that full moons were lucky," she explained patiently, "And if we sleep under it, we are gifted with that luck."  
He frowned a bit; stories that were told to children to frighten them always held a full moon as a bad omen, so to have someone say it was good luck was completely strange to him. _

"_Well, I guess we need all the luck we can get," he sighed._

"_My thoughts exactly!" she grinned. Wren scratched the dog behind his ears; Blaise grumbled in appreciation. She felt different around this man; he was the complete opposite to the vile nobles. Alistair was warm and funny, strong and caring, everything that Adaia had told her about the __**special **__humans. When he gave her the rose, it was like something had clicked inside of her. A part of her said, "You're hungry again, growing-girl!"  
She brushed __**that **__aside quickly and set herself on a different theory – something better…_

"_So," Alistair said, clearing his throat, "_

_All this time we've spent together… you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, and the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… will you miss it once it's over?"  
Wren propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him curiously. Where was he going with this?_

"_Miss the constant battles… or you?"  
He sat up and hung his arm over his knee; he looked up at the moon._

"_I know… it may sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long," he said quietly, "But I've come to… care for you. A great deal."  
She sat up too, pulling her knees up. Wren stared at them awkwardly as she breathed, "Oh."_

"_I think, maybe, it's because we've gone through so much together," Alistair explained. He was now looking at his hands, his cheeks going pink. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a weak smile, "I don't know… or maybe I'm imagining it."  
He shook his head and looked down again. Wren turned her head to look at him; her eyes trailed from his golden hair that she wished she could run her hands through, to his strong, then to his lips._

"_Maybe I'm fooling myself," he shrugged looking back at her, "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"  
Her heart hammered like a drum. She couldn't believe what she was hearing._

"_I…" she stammered softly, "I think I already do."  
Alistair looked at her with surprise; he didn't dare think she would answer with that. Maybe the moon was lucky…_

"_So I fooled you, did I?" he grinned, moving his face closer to hers, "Good to know."  
Alistair's hands cupped her face as he moved in to touch his lips to her own. Wren felt like she was melting on the spot. Their lips parted, but he was still caressing her face. She was so soft compared to him. Wren looked into his deep chocolate eyes; she couldn't help but smile._

"_That… that wasn't too soon, was it?" he asked nervously. This time she wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a dramatic sigh._

"_I don't know. I need more testing to be sure…"_

"_Well, I'll have to arrange that then, won't I?" he chuckled, his hands trailing down her back to her hips, "Maker's breath, you're beautiful! I am a luck man. Now, let's get back to-" she started to pull herself even closer "-what we were up to before… lest __**I **__forget why we're here…"_

"_Not a chance," she laughed, "My luck has already brought me this far."  
With that she kissed him once more - he didn't complain._

* * *

**A/N. This chapter is influenced from the song_ Talking to the Moon _by Bruno Mars.**


	18. You Shoulda Putta Ring Onnit

Hope skipped down the corridor with her stuffed griffon in her hand, as she exited her room. Blaise bounded happily behind her like always. He took his Mistress' words seriously; _look after her, boy, like you look after me._ Since then, he followed the girl around wherever she may go, because if something happened to her, Mistress would be as thoroughly unhappy like she was when Cheese-man left her.

"Blaisey! C'mon, we have to get some food for our picnic!" Hope giggled. They came to the small flight of stairs that led to the kitchen; she jumped them instead, landing gracefully on her feet.

Hope and the hound made their way into the kitchen greeting everyone. The servants adored her, humans as well as elves. Even the cranky old lady that controlled everything the servants do, which surprised everyone, because to Blaise, she seemed to hate everyone and every_thing_.

"Here you go, Hope," said a boy that Blaise had seen her play with. He handed her a basket with all types of delicious smells wafting from it. She smiled, "Thank you, Rowan."

Hope planted a kiss on his cheek, turning his face scarlet. Cheese-man did that whenever his Mistress talked to him. Just as they left the kitchen, they ran into the man.

"Hope," Alistair smiled, "What've you got there?"

She swung the basket filled with goodies.

"Me and Blaise –"

"Blaise and _I._" he corrected tapping her on the nose; it filled her with unusual warmth that she only received from her mother.

"Yeah, _Blaise and I _are going on a picnic in the rose garden and George is coming!" she grinned, squeezing her griffon close to her chest, "You wanna' come?"

He rubbed the back of his neck then took the basket.

"Well," he sighed with a big goofy smile, "Only if you have cheese."

* * *

Wren found the four friends under a tree in the rose garden and it was a sight to see; her Mabari hound had another daisy chain around his neck and George the griffon sat on his head as they bathed in the sun. She, however, had seen this before – it was Alistair that shocked her. He had a daisy chain around his neck that matched Blaise, a tiara glittering on his head and sipping tea _like a lady _with her daughter.

"Your _Highness_," Wren giving him a mock-bow, "All you're missing is the fine silk dress and you'd be curtseying!"

She walked over and sat down on the mat.

"Only for _you_," he winked as he tore a chunk out of a slice of cheese. She rolled her eyes at the old joke. Hope handed her a cup and saucer of tea with a shining grin, snuggling herself into her mother's lap.

They spent the rest of the afternoon spending time together. It was peaceful until the doors that they entered from opened…

"Alist-" Norah Angelo stopped in her tracks staring at the three of them. She wore and black and blood red dress that made her paler. Something inside of Hope sensed something, something dark. It seemed Blaise could feel it too, as he tensed up and started to growl. Wren whispered, taking her hand and resting the other on her hound, "_It's okay…"_

She could feel the electricity building up in her daughter.

"Norah!" the King exclaimed and stood up, clumsily walking towards her, "I thought you had left."

"Change of plans…" she answered, slightly distracted by how feminine he looked. "I'm staying for the rest of autumn."  
Norah chuckled as she helped all with the rid of the girly things. She had black lace gloves; an indescribable image was painted on her fore hand.

"I've been assigned to tell you that dinner is ready in the dining hall," she smiled, looking over at the two elves, "And Arl Eamon would like Lady Wren to join."  
Norah Angelo intently at the child before Wren took Hope's hand and said stiffly, "Thank him for me."  
Alistair could feel the rising tension between the two women; he cleared his throat and placed a hand on Norah's back.

He looked to Wren and murmured, "I'll see you there."

As the King and the woman left, Hope felt something stir within her, tugging at her gut.

* * *

Alistair sat himself at the end of the long table. Eamon sat next to him on his left and Norah on his right. He let out a bored sigh as he waited for Wren to join them. At least then he knew something interesting would happen.

He felt so happy with her and Hope in the garden, like it was supposed to be, until of course Lady No-fun-Norah had to come and spoil it all. He looked from the corner of his eye and saw her. She was definitely beautiful with her prominent cheekbones, pale skin and dark hair, but she wasn't _his _kind of beautiful. Out of nowhere flashes of the night of the ball flooded his head; _her _unexpected soft lips on his, the smell of lilac and pine-nuts…

He violently shook his head. No. He couldn't be thinking about that.

Right on queue the doors opened and Wren walked in. She wore a dark green dress and her hair was pinned back. She sat at the other end of the table, greeting Eamon with a small nod. Servant elves poured wine into golden goblets and served out their food. None of them made any eye contact until they served Wren where they smiled warmly.

"So, Eamon, are you going to tell me why you have me join your meal?" she asked in what would seem casual to others, but Alistair could sense the coldness in her words. She took a sip out of her goblet as she watched Eamon fidget with the roasted something on his plate. Did he look pale?

"Eamon," Alistair murmured, "What's happened?"  
Wren sat up in her seat, staring at the old man intently.

"There has been trouble, my Lord," he answered, "In the Free Marches. Mages from Ferelden and their own have been treated… well, worse than usual."

"Okay…"

"With the threats of rumored anarchy in Orlais especially in their Circle," Eamon continued, "We fear that you may have to interfere before anyone in Kirkwall has the same idea."

Wren and Alistair looked at each other. A probable new war where mages have rebelled against authority – if it reached Ferelden, all their friends who had magic would be hunted whether they did anything or not.

"How bad is it in Kirkwall?" Alistair asked quietly.

"Knight Commander Meredith has taken over as ruler of the city after Viscount Marlowe Dumar's death three years ago," he answered darkly, "She's become even more paranoid and prejudice towards the mages and it was already horrific before. First Enchanter Orsino had started a very public argument with her about it."

"This could get bloody," Wren commented. Alistair rubbed his eyes tiredly. This was all he needed: first being hunted by the Crows which is still going on and now a paranoid Templar to deal with.

"Is there anyone who could help?"

Arl Eamon watched him, his brow creasing, and answered, "The Champion of Kirkwall, Alena Hawke, was brought into the fight. She didn't pick sides however; she may be able to help you. She escaped from Lothering when the Blight was upon us."  
Wren had visions of demons and blood magic that resembled her time saving the Circle Magi. She blinked them away and looked towards Norah. The woman was still eating! Not once had she stopped or gave out any type of emotion through the talks of a probable mage VS Templar war.

"You have no opinions, Lady Norah?" she questioned, as Arl Eamon and Alistair talked about leaving for Kirkwall. The men stopped in silence and looked at the two of them. Norah laid down her knife and fork on her plate. She calmly looked up at the elf, her blue eyes boring into Wren's green.

"Whatever happens to Kirkwall happens," she answered, "I think that no one should go there or do anything as it is not our land and therefore not our problem. That is what I believe."

Wren's eyes widened incredulously, "Innocents could die – _are dying_ – and you think we shouldn't _do anything about it?_"

Norah laid her hands on her lap and sighed.

"This is why I don't share my opinions LadyWren," she hissed, "I know my place and it is beside my King, who has chosen to visit the Free Marches and help the mages. I would not do the same in his position, but that is _the Kings_ choice. Who am I to deny his decisions?"

Wren was on her feet now. It was such a little thing, but Norah Angelo made her angry. Everything she did made her blood boil. Whenever she spoke, or smiled at Alistair…

"You're his future wife!" she thundered, "That's what you are!"  
The human woman smiled cruelly as something finally clicked in her head.

"That is true, _elf_," the woman snarled, "But that does not give me any advantage. Like I said, I know my place. _Do you_?"  
Alistair was now on his feet too, ready to slide down the long table to tackle Wren to the ground if he had to. She was looking murderous.

"Oh I do, _human_," she said, her voice now dangerously quiet, "And I'll tell you now, I won't hesitate in keeping it."

Her eyes flittered over Alistair's; they were red and watery. She quickly turned on her heal and left the room. Norah let out a little laugh and took his hand.

"You can try."

* * *

It was afternoon when Wren entered her bathroom for a bath. She had once again dreamt about the black haired boy with the startling yellow eyes. She blamed the temper she was in when she went to bed.

Not long after, there was a light rap on the door.

"Wren," the voice of Nessa, who had taken up a job at the castle after the blight, called, "Your clothes are on the chair behind the dressing wall."

"Thank you." Wren called out. Slowly she hauled herself out of the water and took a towel off the marble floor to wrap around her body. After she was dry, Wren left the bathroom. She took off her towel and chucked it on her large, feathered bed. Just as she was about to go over to her clothes, the door opened.

"MAKER, SORRY!" Alistair cried out as she dropped down to the floor behind her bed. "Is that a new tattoo on your back?"

"_Alistair, I swear to Andraste -_" Wren growled.

"Alright, alright…" he turned around and closed the door as she popped her head up and snatched her towel off the quilt. She stood up, wrapped in the towel and put her hands on her hips, "Do you _ever _knock?"

"Sometimes, but usually they're not naked," he answered turning around, his cheeks pink. Wren strutted over to the floral dressing wall. _I forgot how good her legs are_, Alistair thought, _Wait. No. That sounds really perverted, especially right now._

"So," Wren said from behind the wall, "What did you want to talk about?"  
Alistair could see her silhouette bending over to change…

He shook his head vigorously. He face burned.

"Eamon wants me to leave tomorrow for Kirkwall," he answered, trying to look anywhere but in her direction. Wren stopped buttoning up her pants at his words.

"That's a little early, isn't it?"

"It's an urgent matter." He shrugged, "Zevran will be coming with me, in case the Crows follow."  
Wren came out from behind the wall, fully clothed. She wore black pants that hugged her legs and a deep blue shirt, with a leather belt around her waist. She walked over to him with a worried expression. His eyes admired the light, tattooed patterns on her face.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked quietly. Her fingers started to fidget on the chain she wore around her neck. A gold band hung on the end.

"However long it takes to get this into people's head."  
Wren looked up at him for a moment and then started to take off the chain around her neck. She took his hand and placed it in his palm.

"What is it?" Alistair asked, looking at the small ring. It was definitely made for an elf. She smiled up at him and murmured, "It was once a wedding ring and then in time it saved my life as well as my daughter's. And I want you to have it."

He looked at her. His heart thumped in his chest so hard it hurt. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It wasn't heated, but it was soft, slow and warm.

She didn't hesitate.

* * *

_**Hey guys,  
**__**I'm so sorry I haven't been on in awhile, but I hope this has made up for it.**_

_**Love you all,  
SarcasticPieWithdrawl xx**_


	19. Lovers, Letters and Losers

Zevran's aroma of leather filled Wren's nose as she hugged her best friend goodbye.

"Look after him," she murmured in his pointed ear, nodding in the King's direction, "And don't get killed."

He chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Onlookers would think they were lovers or something more, but it was never like that, not that Zevran had ever tried of course. The two elves were like siblings, something Wren only had with her cousins.

"My dear," he smiled, "After accompanying you on your own adventures, I think I can handle a few assassins."

She softly hit him around the head. Hope ran into Zevran's arms, kissing him goodbye and telling him to not forget to bring back presents. Leliana joined the love after hugging Alistair.

"Well," Alistair sighed, "He definitely will be missed."  
They watched them in silence until Wren turned to him. She touched his arm and said quietly, "Be careful, okay?"

He smiled at her. She'd always wondered how he kept his teeth that white...now was not the time to be thinking about those things. Maker, he'd be the death of her. He took her in his arms and held her close. His lips parted at her ear and whispered, "Always."

Bann Teagan called for the two remaining travellers to aboard the ship. Hope held her mother's hand and waved vigorously with her Aunt Leliana, as the three of them watched the ship sail into the sun.

* * *

Wren walked down the stone steps into the training ground. A small group of Grey Wardens watched the guards practice fighting in the combat ring. Three of them snickered constantly while observing. _Great_, she thought to herself, _more dicks to deal with._

Arl Eamon had the new Warden Commander Stroud visit after the King left to his trip to the Free Marches. Stroud dumped the youngest recruits in her care until Alistair's return, for reasons still unknown.

"Why can't Stroud just tell me why I have to deal with his kids?" she growled to Leliana, "I mean, isn't there any Darkspawn to slaughter somewhere?"

The Orlesian bard patted the poor elf on the back, sympathetically. Oghren greeted his two old friends with belch that smelled strangely like cinnamon.

"Ah, there yeh' are!" he growled, giving them a huge grin. "I thought I'd have ta' pummel their heads in by ma'self!"

Wren laughed at the old dwarf as she strapped her drake scale armour on. Leliana headed over to the archery section, which she was greeted with wandering eyes. The elf and dwarf headed over to the ring. Some of the Warden recruits let out small gasps at the sight of her in the flesh, others whispered things to others and laughed.

"As the majority of you know, I'm Warden Tabris, the Hero of Ferelden, blah, blah…" Wren sighed, "I'm here to train you Shem to become the best you can be, blah, blah. Now let's get on with it."

Oghren muffled his laughter at the faces of the younglings drop as they realized their greatest hero didn't want to be there. The guards cleared the ring as they entered. The Wardens took out their weapons; some were rogues though very few, but Wren could deal with that.

"I'm going to first teach you how to defend yourself –" she began to say until a human man scoffed. Wren glared straight ahead, through the small group and hissed, "You disagree?"

The group turned their heads to see the one who interrupted their teacher. He was heavily built and had a neatly cropped head of brown hair. A tattoo curled around his face.

"I think we should be learning how to fight bigger enemies."  
Wren looked like she was going to punch the boy. She moved forward a little and asked quietly, "What's your name recruit?"

He puffed out his chest as she got closer, his recruit mates moving out of her way. He answered, "Vince."

"Well Vince," she was dangerously close to him now. He could smell her perfume from her braided hair, "You can help me with that, can't you?"  
He swallowed hard and nodded. She moved away from him, back to Oghren.

"You've done it now!" another recruit smirked. He was tall and evenly built, with raven hair and blue eyes. Vince shoved him into the fence lining the ring.

"Shut it, Hawke!" he snarled. Oghren stomped his way to towards the disruption, shoving Vince away from the Hawke boy. He pointed a dirt covered stub of a finger in his direction and growled, "Put it back in yeh' pants and choose yeh' weapon!"  
Vince grumbled to himself about shutting the dwarf up for good, as he checked the weapons rack. Wren watched patiently, picking out weaknesses in his armour.

"Your choice of weapon defines your technique – for example, if you choose knives it usually means you're fast, though vulnerable to bigger hits if your enemy catches you." She explained to her students. Vince walked through the crowd, towards her. She looked at the war hammer he held in his hand and raised an eyebrow. Wren nodded to Oghren; he threw her weapons towards her. She caught them easily by the handles and balanced them comfortably in her hands.

"This is Starfang. This blade was made from the ore of a rock that fell from the sky," she said, showing off a silver-blue long sword in her right hand. "And this is Fang commonly known as _'the Fang of Fen'Harel'_. It was used in the battles to save the Dales and since then, it has been passed down through my line. Both blades helped me slay the Archdemon – let's see how it fairs against little Vince's hammer!"

After everyone had cleared out of the ring, Wren and the recruit started to circle one another.

"Whenever you're ready," she grinned wickedly. Vince puffed out his chest again and charged, letting out a bellow. The elf dodged out of the way swiftly, hitting the back of his helmet. As he stumbled to regain his balance, Wren let out gasp of laughter. He whipped around and lunged at her moment of vulnerability. She quickly raised her weapons in an X to block his strike. Wren's leg kicked up and collided with his groin. He fell to his knees easily, groaning in pain.

"I was expecting a little more, actually." She said disappointedly. The tip of Starfang supported Vince's chin, until she lowered it and sheathed both blades. "Rule one: never under _or _overestimate your opponent. As you can see, I expected _too _much of your fellow Warden."

The group laughed. She turned away as Vince's two friends helped him up.

"Knife eared tramp…" he muttered. Wren stopped dead in her tracks. The Hawke boy watched her in curiosity… until she spun around and punched him in the nose. Her back straightened as people rushed around her to get to the recruit that now had a broken nose.

"Rule two: don't allow your _bigger _enemies think that they're better than you."

* * *

The large oak doors of the royal library opened. Wren jogged through the rows of towering shelves that held books from every corner of Thedas until she was in her little nook in the far end right corner. It was dark and the chair that sat in the corner between to smaller shelves was old, frayed and smelled of mothballs. Thin layers of dust covered every surface. No one came here – the dirty evidence was clear that not even the servants paid a visit to clean.  
She sat down at the small willow desk and laid a thin piece of parchment down. Taking a quill from the ink pot, Wren started to scribble down a message. Previously, she had received a letter from Kirkwall with a royal wax seal.

She stopped writing and pulled out the letter, reading it for the hundredth time:

_Wren,_

_We've arrived at Kirkwall and were greeted with less than warm welcomes. Zevran was right about the Crows following us – he ran off to keep them off my tail. I know he can look after himself, but it still keeps me awake at night._

_Teagan and I visited Viscount's Keep today, and met the lovely Knight Commander Meredith. She was as warm and cuddly as a dragon. I sent a letter to Alena Hawke to come to the Keep, too. You would not believe who was with her – a certain busty pirate named Isabela! She looked good too. You know…in a totally not perverted way (please don't kill me when I get back). Anyway, there was a mage with Hawke, too. I'm pretty sure he was a Greywarden at one point._

_I couldn't do much for the mages, but I told Hawke to protect Kirkwall if needed. With the way things are going, she probably will have to._

_I hope everyone is well. I'll be back soon._

_Love Alistair_

After she had finished dotting her name, she placed the quill in the pot and slipped the letter in an envelope. Someone shuffled into her little nook, not paying attention to his surroundings. The boy was panting heavily and looking around the corner frantically.

"Can I help you -" Wren began to ask, until he hushed her annoyingly. She was about to bite, when his head slightly turned and whispered, "Vince is storming the whole of Denerim to find me!"

Anger flared through her at the mention of that name. She stood up from the desk, forgetting the letter.

"Shit! He's coming this way." The boy groaned. At that moment, he was shoved out into the open. He spun around to see if it was Wren, but she'd disappeared. The broken-nosed Vince charged towards him.

"The little birdie's stuck now, isn't he?" Vince sneered. His empty-headed goon cracked their knuckles behind him. "You could've tried harder in hiding, Hawke."

"Well personally, I didn't think you'd go anywhere _near _a book, let alone a whole _room _filled with them!" Hawke jeered, trying to act casual. That is, until Vince took hold of the front of his shirt. The two men stared each other down.

"I'm gonna' enjoy kicking your ass into the ground," Vince snarled. The two Wardens behind him smirked and snickered. Hawke raised an eye brow to the two brainless wonders, "Three on one? That's hardly fair. What - don't have the balls to fight me yourself, _Vincent_?"

He let out a groan as a knee collided into his groin. While Vince was admiring his work, his friends were on the ground unconscious. His foot was about to collide with Hawke's, when the tip of a blade rested on his cheek.

"Put your dicks away, boys, before I cut them off."

Wren stood there with a smirk on her face. Vince swallowed hard as Hawke stumbled to his feet.

"You can't do anything to me – my father is a highly powerful noble!"

She dug the blade deeper into his flesh and moved closer to his face.

"You think that has stopped me before?" she hissed. The tip of the blade moved from his skin and Wren pushed him away forcefully. "And you have no noble father now. It was taken away once you survived the ritual."

Vince glared at them both. He kicked his friends awake and left in a violent storm.

"Thanks for that, but I could have handled it myself." Hawke said, a hint of annoyance coating his words. Wren snorted with laughter, mimicking his face when he was struck _downstairs_. She recovered herself and looked up him. He had blue eyes and black hair. Something about him looked familiar, but so did his name.

"It's Hawke, isn't it?"

"Carver Hawke." He nodded, shifting awkwardly. Wren cocked her head and asked if he was related to Alena Hawke. Again, he nodded and said bitterly, "She's my sister."

"You don't like her?" Wren asked curiously. She knew how to get anyone to talk whether it was flirtation, bribery or torture. But for Carver, she needed to be gentle.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"No, it's not like I don't dislike my sister. It's just…" he looked up at her. She nodded encouragingly. "…It's just that I feel like that's all I'm known for – the Hawke name. Not anything else. I mean, I can't even become a Greywarden by myself!"

Carver stood up straight, looking embarrassed at what he'd just admitted.

"I'm sorry…I've got to go."

He quickly walked past Wren. She was about to argue when she heard the doors close.


	20. Day Leavers and Night Lovers

_Hope stood in a field where bugs buzzed in the warm air. She turned her head to look at an old tree where her mother and, strangely, the King sat under. They smiled and waved at her. She hadn't seen her mother smile like that in… ever. As the girl breathed in the happiness that surrounded her, the sky darkened. The warm breeze turned into a cold wind. The long grass that tickled her legs shriveled into dead mulch that covered the ground. Hope spun around to look at the tree again, hoping to find an explanation. Instead she found a dead twisted stump, and in the place of her mother and the King stood two monsters of what once must have been human. Their skin grey and faces skeletal, black poisonous blood smothering their armor. Darkspawn._

"_I know who you are, Hope Tabris," a voice whispered somewhere in this newly made wasteland. "I know _what _you are."_

_Hope tried to run, but she couldn't move her feet. Black smoke whipped around her. A woman stood before her. She wore a black, flowing gown with a hood to hide her face. _

"_You have power, child. Power not even the Old Gods would have foreseen. I can help you unleash and control it to hinder your enemies. To become queen…"_

_A misty lake appeared ahead of her. The woman clicked her fingers and Hope found herself in front of the water, staring at her reflection. She wore and grand gown as dark as night. Her green eyes were dark and her skin pale. Hope's blonde hair was pulled back in a knot to support an ebony crown. She was beautiful, but something stunned her the most - her ears. It was something insignificant to someone else, but to her it gigantic. Her ears were not pointed._

"_You can become a grand ruler, if you join us. Join us, Hope…join us…"_

Hope's eyes fluttered open, breathing heavily. Blaise snored in her ear as he usually did, not even noticing her awakening. She closed her eyes as she tried to remember her dream. That woman was familiar in everyway; her voice, the way she stood…

"It was just a dream," she said to herself. Still, her hands touched her ears softly as she fell asleep once more.

* * *

Rumors flew around the castle about the possibility of war back in the Free Marchers. Panic for family who moved to Kirkwall through the Blight, created havoc around Ferelden. Wren and Arl Eamon tried to calm the civilians. Lady Norah Angelo however, sat around indoors ordering servants around for little things. If she weren't the future queen of the country, Wren would have kicked her ass.

"She's going to rule Ferelden, so _she _should be the one to help the people!" she raged, walking down the stone steps to the training grounds. Leliana frowned.

"I wonder why?" the Bard thought aloud. Wren tossed her hands up in anger, "Because she's a _bitch_, maybe?"

Leliana laughed halfheartedly. The young Wardens were training again. Stroud finally answered the Hero's letter about the babysitting job. He was having trouble in Orlais and couldn't train them. His Second in Command was apparently preoccupied, too. Wren thought it was all bullshit.

Leliana took her archers and mages to the archery section as Wren headed to the ring. The autumn chill in the air made a shiver run down her spine. Carver Hawke jogged over to her, forgetting his great sword lying in the dirt.

"Lady – er… - Tabris?" he called out. She looked up at the boy and smiled.

"Wren." She corrected.

"Yeah. Right."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the problem?" Wren asked gently. He looked at her, his eyes wide. She could sense fear inside him.

"I've heard rumors…about Kirkwall," he answered, a hint of panic in his voice, "Are they true? Will there be a war?"

Carver watched as the Hero had trouble answering.

"My sister…please, Wren, let me go to her. I want to help her and…and…"

"Go." Wren said, "Be with your sister and help her if needed. I'll cover for you."

Carver rushed up and hugged her. His fellow recruits stared at the two in amazement.

"Thank you! Maker, _thank you_!" he smiled, his eyes wet. She touched his forearm and looked up at him seriously.

"Remember that you're more than just a name."

The boy smiled and gave her a nod. He jogged over and took his sword, leaving the ring and soon, Ferelden.

* * *

Hope wandered the corridors of the castle. It seemed cold and dark without the King walking around cheerily. She remembered the day she spent with him…

"_Did you really fight Darkspawn and the Archdemon with my mother?" Hope asked curiously, popping a grape in her mouth. King Alistair scratched Blaise behind the ear and answered, "Not just Darkspawn and the Archdemon, but dragons, blood mages and other nasty monsters!"_

_He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her into his lap and started to tickle her. She sighed when he stopped and looked up him, fiddling with the necklace around her neck. It glowed dimly._

"_She used to tell me stories of all her adventures, but I remember one in where you fought a dragon and you saved her."_

_Alistair remembered the memory vividly. Wren had been hit by the tail of the dragon, and was knocked unconscious as she hit a large rock. The flying lizard was about to finish her off until he charged in, ramming his shield in the side of its face. The golem, Shale and Morrigan proceeded to distract it so Alistair could check on Wren. She was bleeding heavily from her head and possibly had broken some ribs. At that moment, he thought he had lost her._

"_You were her knight-in-shining-armour," Hope murmured dreamily. He smiled to himself._

She had so much fun that day. Hope was sad when it ended.

As the small girl hummed to herself, she came to a room that was open. She looked around sharply to see if anyone was watching and continued to sate her curiosity. A grand fireplace, the same height as her, was on the right side of the room. Deep blue sofas sat facing the ashes. A large mahogany wardrobe towered over on the opposite side. Little pictures were carved in the wood. And a grand bed was placed at the far end of the room.

Hope stared in awe at the room.

"What are _you_ doing here?" a voice snapped. Hope turned around in an instant, seeing Lady Norah standing in the doorway. She stuttered to respond as the woman swept towards her.

"You're Hope, aren't you? Wren Tabris' daughter?" Norah asked, he voice suddenly soft. Hope nodded quickly. She didn't like the feeling this woman put off, like she would attack as soon as you turn. She wasn't to be trusted. "What brought you to the King's quarters?"

Before she could answer, Wren stood at the door, Blaise growling at her side.

"Hope?" the elf called. The child ran to her side. "What were you doing? Never mind, Blaise – take her to Leliana."

The dog huffed and tugged on the little girl's dress, making her follow. Norah clasped her hands together in front of her. Wren glared at her venomously.

"Something you wish to say?" Norah asked gently.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but I will find out." Wren hissed, "Just stay away from my daughter!"

The room grew colder as the two women stared each other down.

"I sense that you don't trust me?" Norah laughed darkly, baring her teeth slightly.

"Not even if my life depended on it."

She moved towards the door and stopped as she got to Wren. "One day, Hero, it just might."

Norah Angelo left Wren Tabris fuming at her words.

* * *

A week had passed since the run-in with Norah Angelo. Hope quickly forgot it however, as King Alistair had arrived back from Kirkwall. She ran down the wooden deck of the docks with Blaise barking excitedly behind her. Alistair held out his arms for Hope, but got an overly excited dog that weighed the same as a small cow pinning him down.

"Blaisey missed you!" she giggled, as the dog covered the King's face with saliva. Wren ran over and pulled him off. Leliana quickly helped him up, grinning widely. She hugged him lovingly, wiping the drool off his face.

"Settle down, _mother_, settle down…" he joked, pinning her hands to her side. Leliana pouted stubbornly. She continued to eye the last bit of drool on his forehead. Alistair looked over at Wren. She smiled at him warmly. If they weren't under the public's eye, he would have taken her there.

Eamon and Norah walked towards them. Teagan greeted his brother in a one armed hug, while Norah pushed her way through to Alistair. She took his arm and pulled him away from the docks. Wren visualized herself pushing that wretched woman in the water.

* * *

To celebrate the arrival of the King, there was a large banquet. Eamon and his wife, Isolde, joined the feast as well as the rest of the nobles came. Wren, Leliana, Oghren and Hope were invited, though it wasn't as fun without Zevran.

Everyone wanted to speak with the Alistair; whether it was about the Free Marchers, his engagement with Lady Norah Angelo, or how _fabulous _he looked "in that colour", there was no way Wren could speak to him alone. Leliana continually scolded Oghren for saying such repulsive things about the nobles' outfits, or hair.

"You shouldn't be saying these things in front of Hope – you're influencing bad habits!"

Oghren shrugged and let out a belched. Hope fell into a giggling fit as Leliana let out an aggravated sigh, muttering of how hopeless he was. After the food had been gauged by the bulging nobles (men _and _women), Hope began to fall asleep. Leliana and Oghren followed Wren out as she took her daughter to her room.

After tucking Hope in, she kissed her on her forehead and left, leaving her hound sleeping by her daughter's bed. Wren headed towards her room, but to only find someone was already in there.

"Alistair?" she breathed, closing the door behind her. He turned around and grinned. His long legs stretched towards her, enveloping Wren's smaller body in an embrace. They both took in their scents and warmth.

"Maker, I've missed you!" he said quietly. She smiled and said, "I know how you feel."

_This is bad_, her brain repeated, _you're going to get caught. You're going to get hurt._

But her heart screamed the loudest: _Fuck it_.

Her hand slinked up his chest and hooked around the nape of his neck, pulling his lips to hers, while the other unbuttoned his shirt and chucking it on the ground. A tattoo of the Greywarden crest was printed over his heart. _Damn! Someone's been working out, _she thought to herself. Alistair's large hands slipped down her back and rested on her hips, pulling her closer to him. She could feel him hardening against her body. Wren lifted herself to hook her legs around his waist. They moved to the end of her bed. Alistair kissed her soft lips before parting to slip off her own top and the top of her undergarments. They lent back on the bed; his lips from her own, down her neck, over her collarbone, stopping at her heaving breasts. Her fingers dug into his hair as grazed his teeth against her skin. A soft moan left her mouth. Alistair lifted his head and crushed his lips to Wren's. Her tongue collided with his as he slipped her pants and bottoms off. His fingers began to massage her heated opening. She bit down on her lip, holding in a gasp. He knew she was ready. Slipping off his pants and underclothes, Alistair positioned himself in between her thighs. Wren could feel his hot, thickness inside of her. As he moved himself inside of her walls, she took his hand like she did the first time, linking her fingers in between his. Alistair's other hand gripped the sheets as hers held onto his strong shoulder.

Wren could feel herself losing it. She was about to scream when he kissed her hungrily. Her lower body bucked into his as he pounded into her again and again. In the last few moments they looked each other in the eyes and found everything they had lost since the end of the blight. He arched his back and with a satisfied moan, Alistair's intoxicating warmth spilled into her. He softened his pace and lowered himself on top of her body. Wren rubbed her thumb on his cheek as she cupped his face.

They relaxed on their sides, Alistair spooning from behind. He kissed the back of her neck softly and said whispered, "I love you, you know."

Wren smiled and her eyes closed.

"I love you, too. Always." She whispered back.


	21. The Burning of a Heart

_Cave like walls surrounded the woman that wore a hood to hide her face, walked down a corridor. She turned a corner and found herself in a room. A roaring fire blazed in the middle of the stone floor, lighting up the dark room. A thin boy faced the flames, his eyes closed in a relaxed state. His tall shadow danced around the room._

"_Sire," the woman greeted him, "I have news about the King…and the girl."_

_He cocked his head to the side, his eyes still closed. "What is it?"_

_She moved gracefully around the edges of the room, watching the boy carefully._

"_King Alistair has returned to Denerim from his trip to the Free Marchers," the woman informed._

"_And Hope?"_

"_The security has slackened, even for the King. We could attack now –"_

"_No." the boy snapped, "You're forgetting Tabris."_

_The woman scoffed. "She is but one woman!"_

"_And you mustn't underestimate her." He interrupted, "She is willing to kill for those she loves, that is why you must have a diversion."_

_The woman walked to his side and asked, "What do you suggest, my Lord?"_

_His hand stretched out to the flickering fire. When he pulled it back out, his hand was unscathed. He was however, holding a small ball of fire._

"_We burn the heart out of the Hero."_

_His lids flashed open to reveal his piercing golden eyes._

* * *

Wren's eyes snapped open. Her breathing was fast like she had just run a mile. Her hands stretched out to find Alistair, but his warmth wasn't there.

"Get dressed – quick!" he ordered, coming out of her bathroom and chucking her clothes on her bed.

"Wha –"

"The city's under attack!"

She shot out of the bed and quickly chucked on her clothes, collecting her blades as she did. Out of her window she could hear screams and smell smoke. When they exited the room, there was no one to be seen.

"They must be already out there." Alistair said quietly. Wren took his hand and ran down the corridor. "We need to check on Hope!"

And so they did, but Hope was nowhere to be seen. Blaise was sprawled unconscious on the floor. She wanted to check on him, but she needed to find her daughter first. Fear rose inside her. It writhed like a pit of live snakes. They ran through the large entrance to the castle, seeing the chaos for the first time. Not too far away, Wren could see where the smoke came from. Balls of fire rained down continually.

"No," she whispered, seeing the top of the Alienage in a blaze of fiery red. Her hand broke away from Alistair and sprinted in the direction of her home. The gates were open letting the elves escape. But she couldn't see her cousins.

"SORIS! SHIANNI!" she screamed out, but no one answered. Wren was but to run into the burning wreck when someone caught her around the chest.

"You can't do anything for them now," she could hear Leliana say in her ear. Wren tried to fight out of her grip, but her friend wouldn't budge.

"No! NO!" Wren sobbed, "SORIS! SHIANNI!"

Leliana pulled her away from the fire. Pain tore at her heart, but her head continued to say there was a chance. It was slim, but there was still a chance. Something snapped her out of it, though. A shrill scream in the distance…

"MUMMA!"

Hope was thrown over the shoulder of a man who was surrounded by a group of mages, rogues and warriors. The Crows.

Leliana saw them too and sprinted off with her friend. She sent arrows at them as Wren cut down the assassins who tried to stop her. One of the mages created another rain of fire. Leliana went flying as one of the fireballs hit a cart and exploded.

"Keep going!" she croaked to the elf, cradling her arm. The Bard used her good arm to check her bow and arrows at her friend. As Wren continued, she shot arrows at the remaining the group members, leaving the Crow that held Hope vulnerable. The last arrow left her finger tips and hit the back of his skull. The Crow's body crumbled to the ground. Hope hit the dirt and rolled to her side.

"Hope!" Wren cried, running over to her. But it was too late. A black cloud surrounded the child's small body. The smoke disappeared and the same woman in both of their dreams appeared. She was holding Hope at knife point. A blood dragon was tattooed on her forehand. Flames erupted in the little girl's hands, trying to burn the woman. Hope's struggles made the woman's hood slip off.

"You can try dear, but it is no use!" Norah Angelo hissed. Wren held Fang in her direction. There was no way she could attack without harming her daughter. More assassins and mages wearing the same robes and branded with the same dragon as Norah, circled them, ready to strike.

"You treacherous bitch!" Wren snarled, "Let go of my daughter!"

She didn't answer, but laughed instead. Loud thumping of feet came closer towards them.

"Wren? Hope?" Alistair called out. His voice dropped to an angry growl when he saw Norah, "Norah. What fuck are you doing? Let her go!"

Not once had Wren heard him swear that way. It kind of turned her on…

"I am fulfilling my duties, sweet heart," she smiled, "And one of them is taking dear, little Hope away from both of you."

"I won't let you." Wren spat. She met her daughter's fear filled eyes. A tear ran down her cheek.

"You won't have a choice in the matter," Norah said simply. She stroked the top of the girl's head softly. "You do not fear death, Wren Tabris, but you _do _fear the death of loved ones."

Norah continued with a satisfied smirk, "So let's test this theory: who will you choose to save? The daughter you cherish, who I _will_ take, no matter how hard you fight. Or the man who you love? Think quickly Hero."

Wren looked at Alistair and he gave her a nod. With that, he attacked a rogue and all hell broke loose. Wren lunged for Norah and Hope. Her fist connected with the woman's face, which made her unbalanced. Wren was about to attack again, but black smoke cloud her vision. Before Hope could get away, Norah reappeared and snatched her arm. They disappeared in another cloud of black smoke. Wren spun around trying to find them, but to see the mages and the Crows disappearing in the same way…all but one. The rogue snuck up behind Alistair and struck him with a knife that glistened with a green coating. He fell to his knees as the rogue disappeared.

"Alistair!" Wren cried, rushing to his side and supporting his weight. With her hand she held onto the side of the face. He looked at her with his chocolate brown eyes. "You're going to be alright! I promise, I promise…"

In the small space of time, the Hero had lost so much. Her pained screams carried through the burning city.


End file.
